Kätlin Kaldmaa Celibacy. How to begin it and how to end

You know how it goes. You’ve been in a long, destructive relationship with a guy who, with his two unfinished degrees, thinks so highly of himself that there’s nowhere else he can work than at his own micro-company in his own home, because anyone he’s ever worked for is so much stupider and more idiotic than he is that he simply can’t sacrifice another hour of his life to them – he can somehow still bring himself to tolerate stupid customers, but only so long as they don’t start demanding something that should be conservative and innovative at the same time. That’s the limit. The pointlessness of continuing this life together dawned on you during an island adventure, where he “almost banged some blonde” and put on a whole jealousy show for you. For you, even though he was the one who almost banged some blonde and you didn’t bang anyone, not even almost, and he, not you, is the one whose longest-ever relationship has been with that mistress he had both throughout his marriage and during your life together. That very same lover with whom he disappears for days, pictures of whom are occasionally published in newspapers, being your little homeland’s tallest supermodel; who, “smiling mischievously”, talks about how she’s still searching for that one true love and turns down the sprawling mansions offered to her by hopeful businessmen. The very same lover whom your boyfriend brings up with pride, bragging that the first time they met, the girl was so awfully dressed that he ordered her to go and put on something better, amazed that such a pretty girl could wear such awful clothes.

Right. So. Where were we? When you’ve moved out and he still can’t wrap his head around anything and has chased after you and hurled all kinds of insults at you and tried to set you on fire and called you crazy and sworn his eternal love and then absconded to India with the next woman whom you were already warned about close to the end of your relationship, told that she intended to get her paws on your boyfriend, and you’ve taken him to the loony bin and tried to get him fixed up, taken him to the loony bin and tried to get him fixed up, taken him to the loony bin and tried to get him fixed up, and have refused any kind of banging aside of all that Santa Barbara, and somewhere, in the middle of a park, he’s put on his very best little-boy’s face and tone and screamed: “You’re forcing me to seek sex with other women! Do you even understand how hard this is for me?!” And you know, right there – right there – when you’re facing a man whose longest relationship throughout his marriage and your relationship has been, I repeat, with his lover, there’s nothing else you can do than to laugh, laugh, laugh at the top of your lungs because WHAT THE HECK was that just now, huh?!